


Yearn

by RoseThorne



Category: Slayers (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4921546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseThorne/pseuds/RoseThorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zel had long since stopped appreciating his grandfather's gift of immortality.</p>
<p>Originally written in February 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yearn

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Slayers is owned by a bunch of folks who aren’t me. I’m borrowing them for my perverse pleasure, much as Xellos borrows emotions for his.

His life had become pathetic, really.

Zelgadis had stopped paying attention to the passage of days, months, years… Time had been meaningless to him for a long while now, punctuated only by a few needs—nourishment, sleep.

He had, long ago, wandered from what had once been his entire world within the barrier, into the wilderness outside, after his friends had died of old age and left him.

It had turned out that, among the other things his grandfather had bequeathed to him with this curse, he’d also received ageless immortality, at least so far. He’d long since stopped appreciating the gift.

For a while, he traveled aimlessly, visiting famous sights, taking in beautiful vistas, seeing what the world had to offer. He even, occasionally, looked into the artifacts he’d heard rumor of, though he’d long since stopped bothering to hope they’d cure him.

That stopped when one of the relics was connected to Lina, long dead now.

The memory of her and Amelia dancing and singing in outlandish costumes during a Mazoku attack, believing it to be a powerful new spell, was painful to relive.

It was that memory—or rather, the misery it inspired—that brought Xellos the first time. The first time in ages, since long before the deaths and the beginning of his solitude.

He appeared out of nowhere, but he always had. For once, Zelgadis didn’t care why Xellos was there—if he killed him, it would only be a relief.

But the Mazoku only looked at him quietly before finally whispering, “I doubt they would want you to cry over that memory.”

Zel didn’t say anything for a while, then finally, when it seemed like Xellos might leave, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Immortality. Watching everyone die.”

Xellos smiled slightly. “I don’t form attachments to mortal creatures, Zelgadis-san.”

He stared at the Mazoku, too tired and grieved to reply for a while. “Why are you here?” he finally asked.

Xellos stepped toward him, but Zel didn’t move, just let him enter his personal space, too apathetic to care. The priest’s eyes were closed, but he seemed to be studying him.

“You,” Xellos whispered, “are not mortal.”

Zel’s first reaction was to slug him, but Xellos easily caught his arm, and then turned the violence into passion by catching Zel’s lips with his own. Zelgadis hadn’t been touched by anyone, even a handshake, in so long that the kiss was overwhelming.

He was so lonely, so tired of solitude, of hiding and being feared by those who did see him, that although he once would have been horrified by the very idea, now he didn’t see a reason to resist Xellos when that kiss deepened, when he began to disrobe him.

Zel didn’t feel alone with Xellos touching him like this, could forget for a moment everything he had lost.

But when he woke alone… He felt even lonelier than before, until Xellos returned the following night.

In the years that followed, so many that he stopped counting, Zelgadis wandered, the endless monotony broken by Xellos’ visits. But those tapered off, becoming less frequent as time went by and the world continued to change.

It was when he ventured into a city, long since out of money and tired of camping in the snow and trying to hunt, that he realized exactly how much it had changed. When he tried to sell some magical runes he had uncovered, they had been regarded as archaeological discoveries and a local museum had purchased them.

There was no store that bought or sold magical items, nowhere aside from jewelry shops he could sell the magical jewels he had learned long ago to create from flawed gems, and a quick look in the museum told him why.

Magic had become fictional.  _He_  had become fictional, a character from fairy tales. He didn’t exist in name, of course, but magic users, sorceresses, dragons, and even Mazoku were no longer believed in. They were characters in story books meant to amuse children.

He went back to camping in the snow.

Months later, when Xellos showed up again, he asked about it. Although they still had plenty of sex when he came, they always talked as well. Zel waited to bring this up until after they’d fucked.

“I thought you knew,” Xellos murmured, frowning. His hand stopped the leisurely circles it was tracing on Zelgadis’ hip. “After the barrier fell it only took a few generations for what had happened outside of it to happen within.”

Zel was silent for a moment, remembering the reaction they had received in the Outer World when they had used magic. Amelia had been thought of as an angel for her use of Levitation, and his own ridiculous antics had the population labeling him a demon.

There had been very few magic users. Even in the town that had imprisoned Filia, he had heard murmurs of people who didn’t believe in dragons and considered it an attempt by city officials to cling to control. A golden dragon breathing fire at a laughing and taunting Xellos had certainly changed their opinion, but even that would have become legend within a generation or two.

“The magic disappeared, Zelgadis-san. Slowly, but…” Xellos sighed, pulling him a bit closer. “I should have realized. You avoid most cities and villages, so you wouldn’t know. You really have become quite a recluse.”

“But it  _does_  exist,” Zel protested. Even recently, he had found artifacts that he could use. He still used spells, starting his campfires with magic.

“And you are perhaps one of the last living humans who can use it, or even recognizes it.” Xellos’ smile was almost bitter. “And what remains has faded. Without the existence of Ceiphied or Shabranigdu, both sides have faded, and  _humans_  have been the ones to adapt and flourish.”

But Zelgadis  _wasn’t_  human, hadn’t been in quite a while. He had lived far beyond a normal human lifespan and was now in a world that had moved beyond magic.

“That is why my visits are infrequent,” Xellos said softly. He leaned in to nuzzle one of the stones near Zel’s ear. “Have you seen lesser Mazoku, come across villages in need of aid?”

Zelgadis frowned; it had been a while since he’d really paid attention, but it was true. The few villages he had wandered through in his travels had been more caught up in smaller concerns—whether the crops would fail, town elections, occasionally a war, and, once, a plague.

“Why?” he asked, not sure whether he wanted the answer.

In times past, he would have expected Xellos to tell him it was a secret and dance away, but he hadn’t heard that phrase from him in longer than he could recall. He had written off Xellos’ increasingly infrequent visits as a consequence of having an immortal lover; Zelgadis had never had the best self-esteem, and he’d almost expected that Xellos would become bored with him.

Xellos’ eyes were open when he pulled back, and Zel was surprised to see that they seemed… faded, as though they were an illustration of his words.

“The lesser ones lost the ability to manifest in the physical plane nearly a century ago. It cost too much power,” he murmured. “The weaker ones have joined with the Sea of Chaos.”

Xellos’ words reminded him of a conversation Lina had tried to have with them regarding the nature of the Lord of Nightmares, her explanation about the incantation to Giga Slave and Ragna Blade following the destruction of Phibrizzo and Lina’s near-death. He hadn’t understood it, probably because he hadn’t experienced what she had, but he did remember mention of a Sea of Chaos in one of those incantations.

“Lina never did a good job of explaining it,” Zel said finally. “So I’m not entirely sure what you’re talking about.”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Xellos said with a shrug. “The Mazoku race is disappearing. That’s all it means.”

His words sent a chill through Zel, one that worsened as he realized its implications. He had to force himself to speak.

“So you…?”

“It has become… difficult to maintain an Astral projection on the mortal plane,” the priest admitted. “Although your emotions help, human emotions no longer provide what we need. When the magic faded, our ability to feed diminished, too. I’m afraid this will be one of the last times I can visit you, Zelgadis-san.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in, and then Zelgadis felt as though what little was left of his world had crumbled, as it had when Rezo had revealed that there was no cure, and again when the others had died, one by one.

He hadn’t thought Xellos  _could_  die, but now he truly would be alone.

“Take me with you,” Zel whispered, before he could stop himself. He knew it was a stupid thing to say, but he honestly couldn’t think beyond  _oh god not alone again_.

Xellos kissed him, hard, as though he was trying to show him he wasn’t alone—but he would be; Xellos had as good as admitted that this could be their last one. It should have been life-affirming. That was what he had likely intended it to be. But for Zel it was just one step closer to the end.

When the kiss ended, Xellos stroked his cheek gently. “I can’t. Part demon or not, you cannot survive on the Astral plane.”

Zel looked at him steadily. “I don’t care. There’s no place for me  _here_  anymore. There hasn’t been for a long time. And if you’re gone… what do I have left?”

Xellos only regarded him quietly for a long time, and finally Zel broke the silence.

“I’d rather not have to search for a way to die, Xellos,” he whispered. “Or die alone.”

Xellos was frowning at him, and Zel had a moment to wonder what he was thinking before he sighed. “I suppose… I could protect you on the Astral plane. It’s possible you could even join with the Sea of Chaos with me, in the end.”

He understood part of that—at least enough to know that he wouldn’t be alone—and the relief that flooded through him actually made Xellos twitch slightly. Zel tried to focus on what little fear of death he had left, and Xellos smiled almost fondly.

“But for now… I think we have better things to do, as long as we still both have physical form. Though it certainly will be interesting to see what we can achieve on the Astral plane.”

Xellos’ hand trailed down to fondle him, and Zel felt himself harden. He shivered when Xellos leaned in to suck on his neck, when one of his knees pushed between Zel’s legs.

The prospect of death, strangely, gave him a sense of liberation; rather than looking ahead to Xellos’ departure and his return to solitude, he was able to focus more on the present.

This time was like the first all over again, with Zelgadis truly feeling every touch, every movement. When Xellos fucked him, Zelgadis gave in with abandon, not minding that it didn’t stop after the first orgasm, or the second, or even the third.

And when it did, he was fine with only short breaks, during which Xellos’ hands and mouth roamed his body as though memorizing every inch of it. Then it was another position, another tempo. Sometimes it was slow and sensual and almost like love-making, and others it was hard and rough.

It was more than they’d ever done, and more than Zel expected when Xellos flipped their positions, and for the first time allowed Zelgadis to fuck him.

When Zelgadis was finally worn beyond the ability to respond—it really didn’t matter how much time had passed, had stopped mattering so long ago—Xellos drew him into his arms and he knew what was coming.

The world and his body faded around him, but he still felt Xellos, all around him, holding him in a way that felt far more intimate than sex—like being permanently in that moment of transcendence in orgasm, that moment of pure completion.

Zelgadis was content to spend the rest of eternity like this.

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about how much Zel’s mortality might be effected by Rezo’s curse, and my musing led me to wonder if he’s immortal in the “not dead yet” way. This was the result.
> 
> Written for the Springkink prompt: Slayers, Xelloss/Zelgadis, longing - Do you think of me, do you call my name when you're riding high on your astral plane


End file.
